


Not Lost Anymore

by jenna221b



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Episode: s04e02 The Lying Detective, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV Sherlock Holmes, Post-Episode: s04e02 The Lying Detective, TJLC | The Johnlock Conspiracy, The Final Problem, The Three Garridebs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 16:29:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9393680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenna221b/pseuds/jenna221b
Summary: “No!” It comes out far louder than Sherlock intended. He continues, softer, urgent: “No, it’s not too late. Now I’m- I’m just an idiot but- you, you can show me-”Sherlock was never talking to Eurus.





	

Sherlock repeatedly tries to call John, words ready on his lips,  _“John, you won’t **believe** this, I found the note, it was real and-”_

But, the phone rings and rings and rings, and John does not pick up. The bottom drops out of Sherlock’s stomach but he refuses to let himself panic, not yet, as he gets a taxi to John’s therapist.

He raps on the door, short and sharp. Nothing. He waits, and rocks back and forward on the balls of his heels in nervous impatience. He huffs out, “Come _on_ ,” and hammers on the door this time. Again, nothing.

The panic starts to kick in. He cups his hands around his mouth and calls: “John! John?!” His eyes narrow, darting around, thinking, processing. He runs around to the back door, tries to peer inside.

At first glance, the room looks empty. Just two chairs- one for the therapist and one for… 

And then Sherlock’s blood runs cold.

John is lying there, half on that red fur rug. Sherlock slams his hand on the window, bang bang _bang_ , oh god- “John! John, can you hear me? John!”

Sherlock runs back and then slams himself into the glass door until it breaks. “John!”

John’s head stirs just the slightest at the noise. Sherlock runs and bends down in front of him, and doesn’t know if he’s grateful for the red rug or not. John is. John. His John has been shot.

He phones Lestrade, barks out the address, and lets his phone fall. He reaches forward and slaps John’s face, hard. “John! Wake up, wake _up_!”

John jolts a little, but his eyes don’t open. 

“John. John, you need to wake up. Who did this to you? J-John, _please_.”

Through John’s laboured breathing, Sherlock is sure he can just about hear a faint  _“Sher…”_ Hands shaking, he slaps John’s cheeks again, desperate. 

“John? John, please. There’s- there’s something-” Sherlock’s eyes well all at once, hot and painful with tears. “There’s something you need to know.” 

John gasps, his chest heaving, and Sherlock tries to block out the sight of the blood. John’s eyes flutter, and then they open, but they are horrifically glassy. Sherlock does not know what he could be seeing. And that terrifies him. 

He bends down further, his face hovering above John’s. “John?”

John grunts and his eyes open a little wider. He looks straight past Sherlock as if he isn’t there, and then glances down at his own chest. He groans. “No…no…”

“John, please! Listen to me. You- you need to tell me- you need to tell me how to save you.”

There are tears of pain streaking down John’s cheeks now, and Sherlock’s heart is breaking. “No… it’s…s’too late…”

“No!” It comes out far louder than Sherlock intended. He continues, softer, urgent: “No, it’s not too late. Now I’m- I’m just an idiot but- you, you can show me-”

John’s eyes roll back. “M’lost-m’sorry-”

Sherlock lunges forward, takes one of John’s hands and clasps it tight. “You’re not lost anymore,” he whispers and he can feel his own dam starting to break, the first tears escaping. “I’m here. I’m here, now.”

John eyes flicker open again. For one moment, he actually catches Sherlock’s eyes, as if he’s finally seeing him, and Sherlock could weep for joy. 

John’s gaze slides to Sherlock’s hand covering his own. Sherlock’s knuckles are white, his hand shaking. John guides them to his own chest. “Pressure,” he murmurs, before his eyes close again.

Sherlock grits his teeth, and presses down with all his might. John screams with the pain, and it’s the most awful sound Sherlock has ever heard.

“Oh, oh God. John. You’re- you’re going to have to be really brave for me, okay? Christ. Soldier. There you go, that’s right, nothing to it-”

The blare of a siren approaches. All that matters is John is still breathing.

Sherlock keeps pushing down on John’s chest. “There you are- y-you’re almost… you’re almost home, John.” 

All of a sudden, he breaks, bending forward as he sobs fully. His tears fall on John’s face. 

Outside, a screeching of brakes. 

“John. _Open your eyes_.”

And Sherlock gets his miracle. John’s eyes open and they look right into Sherlock’s. They widen, and Sherlock knows in his heart that John can finally see him.

And, in the end, the words that follow come so easily:

“I love you,” Sherlock says. It’s the most certain he’s ever been in his life. 

John smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr: http://jenna221b.tumblr.com/post/156100285130/watching-marcespots-garridebs-video-again-and Inspired by marcespot's amazing Garridebs video, incorporating the ending of The Lying Detective & The Final Problem.


End file.
